Religion

For Japanese children, the practice of Shichi-Go-San is both a rite of passage and the first time many of them will have worn traditional clothing. But casually walking about in his hakama, this young lad looked like he’d been wearing one for a length of time almost as long as his shadow.

Sad, certainly. Not to mention quiet. But perhaps because of those elements there was also an incredible sense of serenity.

Even taking fashion out of the equation, it’s no wonder Christian-style weddings are becoming the norm in Japan, as for the bride at least, it means there’s no need to suffer the uncomfortable kimono and heavy wig of a traditional Shinto ceremony. But as a spectacle — to these foreign eyes at least — the latter really is something else. A wonderful melding of the past and present. And one that while somewhat somber, also appears incredibly serene.

In a time when religion’s influence on politics seems to be ever more insidious, and extremism is undeniably on the rise, the Japanese indifference to such matters is refreshing to say the least. And yet despite such a distinctly pragmatic approach, superstition still abounds. A factor that for many people arguably plays a much bigger role in temple and shrine visits than any particular belief.

Then of course there is the fairly common sight of fortune tellers and palm readers plying their trade on the nation’s streets. Now how much people believe what they are told is impossible to say, but at 1,000 yen a go, it’s probably more than a simple bit of fun. But how much more is anybody’s guess, although it’s clearly enough to keep a sizeable number of people in work.

Speculation aside, however, this man was at least being told something interesting for his money. Good or bad it’s tough to say. True or not, much less so.

The merciful drop in humidity is a welcome sign that after months of discomfort, summer is at last on the wane. However, a far more reliable indicator is the blossoming of red spider lilies. Higanbana to use one of its many Japanese names. Or simply the flower of death.

Poisonous to rodents and other wild animals, they were often planted in and around graveyards during Japan’s pre-cremation days to stop the dead being eaten. The beginning, perhaps, of their connection with death.

The name of the flower can also refer to ‘the other shore’; its bright colours said to guide souls into the afterlife. An aspect that presumably explains its use at funerals.

And if that wasn’t enough, another story is that red spider lilies bloom along the paths of departing lovers. Companions who for one reason or another are destined to never meet again.

Yet associations with death and departing lovers aside, the higanbana does undoubtedly represent the shift from summer to autumn. A welcome sight after too many long, desperately hot days. Although it’s not just the promise of cooler weather, but also its incredible beauty.